An Escapee's Journey Through the Multiverse
by pppppppppppppppppppppppppppp
Summary: How far must a child run and hide to escape the clutches of war? A fanfiction where a psychically gifted child must escape from a corrupt government, war and horrific creatures as he jumps from world to world. He shall make friends, enemies and frenemies on the way. (Post LotV Starcraft x Rwby, OC) Possible Transition into FTL.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Starcraft or Rwby, nor ever will. They are owned by Blizzard and Rooster Teeth respectively.**

 **Prologue:**

How much time has it been since the Great War ended? A year? Perhaps two. I can't remember at this point. Everything had gone as according to the Xel'naga's prophecy. Kerrigan had defeated the dark god Amon; The Protoss Daelaam sees us as allies and best of all the Zerg aren't out to devour our faces! Not like I cared anymore.

Kerrigan, despite her slaughter of the Terrans and Protoss infamous across the entire sector, she had forgotten to tie up one loose end. Arcturus Mengsk. How she avoided killing him nobody knew. Some speculated James Raynor had something to do with it. Perhaps she had forgotten, or maybe the Great War proved to be a direr situation than they anticipated it would be.

Nevertheless, Kerrigan was gone looking after the other parts of the universe, leaving us Terrans in the middle of a civil war so great that no warring side would be left standing. The Moebius Foundation, along with Dominion traitors, led by Valerian Mengsk and allied with Raynor's Raiders had openly rebelled against the Dominion's tyrannical rule, leaving us civilians caught in the crossfire with little to no hope of survival.

Even on backwater planets like Mar Sara the colonists would be held captive by whatever Lieutenant or Magistrate that was ordered to man the local station, be it Moebius or Dominion. It was turning out to be even worse than the Guild Wars. At least Moebius didn't outright slaughter us at the slightest hint of rebellion.

It was even worse for us with psionic potential. Currently, the Prometheus Company had given us refuge from the Ghost and Spectre operatives sent to subdue us, but even that wouldn't last. We are planning to escape into Umojan space, the only neutral side in this war as refugees.

Currently, we are holed up in a Prometheus station located on Antiga Prime, which in all honesty, wasn't such a bad place to live. If you didn't mind the almost constant raids made by the Dominion to 'capture and subdue' us. Nearly every refugee here had some sort of psionic potential, with the rest being their families. This is what the Dominion was desperately hoarding, in the hopes that we will be the deciding factor in the war. They believed we were what they needed to win. Ironicaly, it was this greed that even allowed the Moebius Foundation a chance of winning, what with the Dominion spreading itself out so much.

It wouldn't be long before this station was conquered too. All Prometheus Company actions were heading for Umojan space, and we are preparing to leave as well.

 **End Prologue**

 **A/N:**

 **Hey all, so I've finally decided to start publishing this story. Feel free to criticise my upcoming chapters, in fact, I encourage you to do it, since this is the very first fanfic I have ever begun writing and I would like to know what sorts of flaws I have to work around.**

 **I have done some pretty extensive planning with this. I plan to split this up into a few arks, based on the universe our main character will be in.**

 **You do not need to have much prior knowledge of Rwby, but you do need a general understanding of the Starcraft story-line (read the wiki or watch a let's play if you're interested), however, I will try to make it as understandable as possible.**

 **There will be two Starcraft centred arcs that will be written first, so if you came here just for Rwby, you may want to wait a bit.**

 **Status:**

 **Arc 1: In progress - Updated every weekend.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Get to the** **Shuttles!**

Alarms were blaring into my ears and lights were flashing red along the boxy, metal passageways as I ran for the escape shuttles, my precious few belongings in a small duffle bag on my back. Of all the times for the Dominion to attack! My breaths became more shallow and fast as I bounded through the red lit corridors.

I ran as fast as my knobbly little legs would carry me. Past the orange clad Prometheus guards, lord bless them. Around tossed debris and beside the other rushing colonists, but I barely noticed them in my panic.

I was on the verge of tears at this point; the Dominion had never attacked on such a scale before. I screamed when I heard the gunfire. There are likely to be Ghost operatives or wranglers too, but I couldn't be sure. All I focused on was on running towards the shuttles, indicated by the glowing arrows on the floor, as was drilled every day into our minds at this station.

The gunfire had died down, and the alarms didn't seem so loud now. Had we won? Were we safe? I slowed my run to a slow walk and gazed around. I couldn't see anyone now. There was nothing to be found. The same endless metallic corridors were all I saw as I continued my walk towards the shuttles.

* * *

The rest of the way to the shuttles felt like it took hours, even though it likely only took mere minutes, but I couldn't be sure at this point.

It wasn't long before my legs were burning, begging for rest, but I continued on. My body felt like it was about to collapse.

Yet I walked on towards the shuttles. Towards safety. There seemed to be no change in scenery, just the same corridors over and over again. At the time, my mind couldn't comprehend whether the Dominion had gone away, or if they could appear around every corner, and at every shadow. I couldn't hear anything now. I fell onto the cold, hard floor soon after, my body unresponsive.

* * *

My eyes opened to the sight of whitewashed walls and the sterile smell of medicine. I didn't remember arriving here. Had I been captured? I attempt get up to find that I couldn't, my weak body weighted down by the oversized blankets of the infirmary beds, fit for an adult.

I eventually manage to slide out from underneath them, unintentionally falling off the bed and landing on the tiled floor in the process. After making sure nobody was near, even though the place seemed to be uninhabited now, my gaze unavoidably goes to the reinforced windows.

I am entranced by the sight of the outpost in the distance, getting further and further away, another fire fight with the Dominion in process, though I only noticed the dazzling colours it resulted in. I had somehow made it to the shuttle, even though I didn't know how that happened, but in the end, I didn't care. It was likely that I was found by some Prometheus soldier or other civilian, regardless, I still focused on the scene of the outpost going up in flames. The Prometheus Company always did like to invest in Firebats.

In fact, so mesmerising was the display that I didn't notice the figure walking into the room, making its way towards me. Only when it extended a hand and clasped my shoulder did I whirl around to meet it, my mind instantly going to the Dominion.

"Son, I was so worried about you. I'm glad you're not hurt." I breathed a sigh of relief. It was just my father. I hadn't been captured by the Dominion after all, I was safe-

"But at the same time, how DARE YOU walk off by yourself, thinking you were safe?!" The grizzled giant of a man was now quickly raising his voice way above soft and caring. Scratch safe, I'd take the Dominion over my father in a bad mood any day! I clench my buttocks in preparation for whatever hellish punishment I was about to receive. It was best to say your prayers sooner rather than later.

"What would have happened if you were captured!? What if you were shot or killed?!" He continued to rant on, berating me repeatedly, and his face turned a deep scarlet colour. Even in standard civilian clothing the sight of an enraged man easily two meters tall was as scary as any other Dominion soldier. I felt tears roll down my cheeks, fearing that he might even pull out a gun too. Of course, my father wouldn't go that far, but how could I have known that at the time? I became no more than a crying mess before long. Even if he didn't pull a gun on me, as a person, father was very unstable. Spectres, and even terrazine addicts were all like that in some way or another.

After the rant, my punishment followed soon after.

* * *

All things considered, the punishment wasn't that bad. Just being locked in the storage compartment within the transport for a portion of the trip, no entertainment of any sorts or any people. In fact, it could be seen as a private vacation of sorts. Just in a dark and cold metallic storage room, with even my meals being brought to me with no word whatsoever.

Okay, so maybe it was going a little overboard, whatnot with the transports not having a long ranged FTL drive either, making the journey to Umojan space take up months, if not more. It was depressing to say the least, spending seemingly endless hours in a dark, enclosed space. I wasn't strong enough to pry open the door with my telekinesis, nor was I allowed to practice it. Lord knows what will happen to me then.

My only mercy was a stash of data pads and books that I found in one of the unlocked storage crates. I spent my time going over them again and again, for hours straight. I learned to appreciate them over time, as they were the only thing stopping me from going insane at the time. I eventually began to like all those history and science and god knows whatever else I found, eating them up, feeding my sanity in the only way I could.

That being said, it was still an uninteresting first part of the trip, with only one or two other family being there, heck, I didn't even know half of them. Especially compared to the other part of the way to what was meant to be Umoja.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Starcraft. It is owned by Blizzard.**

 **Chapter 2:**

I way lying down on the ground of my little 'prison cell', staring at the ceiling, contemplating and reflecting upon life, because really, what else was there to do? After spending countless other days the same way, having finished what little the data-pads had many times over, I wasn't too surprised to hear the door beside me let out a small beep before sliding open. I wondered what sort of rations I would receive today…

"Son, time's up. Go head on out to dinner, the family has started to miss you." He sounded sorry there, yet I still wasn't sure if this was some sort of other sadistic joke of his. You could never be sure with terrazine addicts in that regard. I didn't even remember it being this late either, though that was probably my mind playing tricks on me, spending, well, I couldn't even tell how much time I've spent in that room. People have been known to go crazy when spending time in solitary confinement for extended periods of time. Regardless, I had no choice, but to head out towards the cafeteria, father close behind.

* * *

The tension was going off the charts at this point, none of us uttering a single word for the entire walk there. Despite me having the vague idea that the terrazine was making him overreact this way, I still couldn't help, but feel a slight sense of hatred at the thought of him. I didn't doubt the fact that he could feel the raw anger radiating off of me, but well, anyone would have a similar reaction for what he did. What pissed me off even more was how stoic he looked, as if he didn't do anything even slightly horrible to me, nor did he make an attempt at conversation.

I didn't even try to read his mind, for as curious and furious as I was, I still held back from doing it for multiple reasons. One, he was a professional spectre, and would be able to block all of my attempts at mind reading. Second, with how much terrazine he was taking lately, I wasn't sure what I would be able to get out of his mind other than whatever twisted and even more distorted horrors he faced during whatever battles he participated. Third, I was almost certain I would be punished for it, though I did not know why exactly, it was always good to be cautious.

After what seemed like an eternity, we finally reached what I could only guess could be the cafeteria, or bar, depending on what you like to do there. Glancing around the room, I noticed the eyes of every person following us as my father strode towards the bar-area, the confidence in him obvious to see. Following him silently with my head bowed, I managed to get a closer look at some people as we passed them. I wasn't sure if my eyes were deceiving me, but I swear that they looked afraid, turning their heads away when we passed, and immediately beginning to whisper when we were out of earshot.

I got the impression that perhaps he wasn't very liked on the ship. Infamous among the crew if that's a thing. Regardless, the cafeteria wasn't so large as to allow me to ponder any more on this before we arrived at what a child would call the bad, dark place. Of course, should that child have been any older, they would have loved that place, but me? No, not yet at least. I sat down on one of the ridiculously tall chairs, my legs left hanging in the air, with father opting to stay standing instead.

"Ah, ahem… Uh… ***cough*** Captain, may I interest you in a.. A drink, perhaps?" A tall, slim man with a comically large moustache appeared behind the counter and shaking like a leaf, barely managing to make out his words in the presence of the towering behemoth that was glowering down on him. It was plain to see that my father had already made his impressions clear to the crew long ago and apparently, I wasn't the only one who had received his treatment. It was no surprise that he was captain and if there were any objections, they were quelled long ago.

"You know darn well what I want right now Mordecai!" Father growled, borderline shouting at the quivering bartender, slamming a fist on the table just to prove his point.

"Y-yes, yes of course sir, right away... sir," Mordecai stammered before ducking through a door I haven't noticed before. He didn't seem to acknowledge my presence in the slightest. Fortunately, I'd lost my appetite at this point anyways and the bartender did seem like a nice person. Hopefully my father's 'personality' didn't reflect too much on the rest of the crew's impression of me. Perhaps it would be better to keep my distance for now.

Before long, Mordecai was able to procure a large jug of fizzing ale and nudged it towards my father. He finished it in one go, making himself look like some sort of pirate. In fact, he was already up to his second refill. Seems he was an alcoholic too.

Having lost myself in my thoughts, I was left completely unprepared for when a large, grizzled hand latched onto my shoulder and began pulling away with tremendous force. I managed to supress my surprise, opting only for an annoyed sigh when I saw who the hand belonged to. Luckily for me, the transport we had boarded wasn't as large as a battlecruiser and I was spared the shame and irritation of having to be dragged across the ship to where the hell we were going.

I managed to breathe a sigh of relief when we finally reached our destination, whatever it was. The captain, as I now preferred to refer to him after seeing how the crew is treated, handed me a pass card and nudged me forward. I unlocked the door to find nothing.

A barren, dull grey and room. Apart from what seemed to resemble a bed. There were a couple of lights running through the ceiling, some other unrecognizable junk and a metallic desk desperately in need of cleaning, no scratch that, the entire room needed some spicing up. Turning to see that the captain had left I only assumed that this was where I was going to be staying for other majority of the trip, though I would have preferred the storage area if it hadn't been for those extra punishing condition in place and those bad memories prevented me from going back for the time being.

To me, the room itself seemed to resemble a prison cell, minus the part that we had just narrowly escaped landing up in prison, or whatever that Ghost Academy was supposed to be. It was safe to say that this was the standard issue civilian transport room.

Still feeling some ounce of energy I decided to collect my long delayed dinner. Just because the captain had forgotten about me it didn't mean I did. I didn't even bother locking the door as I left for the cafeteria.

I encountered almost no-one on my way there, with what little people I did meet silently passing by me. I still didn't know what exactly they thought of me so perhaps it was better that I engaged in conversation at another time.

I sluggishly made my way to the cafeteria, finding out that my card also worked on public places such as these. Good to know I guess. The only person left in the room was the bartender, Mordecai was his name if I remembered correctly. I made my way to him through the now dim lighting, sitting down once again on those unnecessarily tall chairs and rapping on the curved table to get the man's attention.

It took him quite a while to respond so I knocked on the table again, finally able to get his attention. "Oh, sorry, I didn't think there would be anyone still here this late," the bartender turned slowly, his voice carrying a slight note of nervousness, but upon noticing who I was immediately changed his tone "Aren't you a little too young to be drinking kid?" He jokingly said, voice full of confidence this time.

I was about to retort back at the man, but decided against it in favour of getting some meal out of this. "M-Mordecai, was it? Do you serve anything other than alcohol here?" I tried to build my confidence. I tried to sound demanding and full of purpose. I would not be some lost child. I was determined to get something out of this, and my prolonged lack of communicating with humans had left me slightly socially awkward. Talking to inanimate objects was normal, right?

"I do actually, would you like to order anything?" Mordecai answered back, in a more professional tone this time. "You'll have to pay of course" While his voice was normal the smug look on his face was saying otherwise. I stared back in slight shock. Shit! I didn't have any credits on me! I adorned a more worried expression now, preparing to apologize for inconveniencing him, earning a laugh from Mordecai.

"I'm messing way you kid! Oh, that look on your face was enough for all the crap I receive from the captain. Rations here a free, but you'll have to pay for the beers yourself," He laughed once more as I breathed a sigh of relief. I was getting my meal after all!

"I'd like whatever you call dinner here," I replied, my stomach agreeing with me.

"I'll see what I can scrounge up you kid," he waved back, disappearing through that same door that stayed invisible until it was used. The thing honestly perplexed me.

"My name is Jackson you know!" I yelled after him.

"Sure, kid" Mordecai replied, suddenly appearing from behind the counter. How the hell did he do that? More importantly, he had my long-awaited meal in hand. It tasted like something an animal would eat to be honest. My stomach wouldn't complain though and I shovelled the rest in my mouth, chewing with renewed vigour.

"Now that I think about it, you're that kid that was with the Captain earlier weren't you?" Mordecai asked, "Did you get into trouble?"

"I'm his son, actually," I blurted out, and Mordecai donned a more nervous look on his face. All his presumed leverage was now lost. "I'd much like it if you didn't compare me with him," I continued.

"Oh, ah, right then, I'll be out back if you need me," he disappeared behind that same mysterious door and I left for my room. All in all, it hadn't gone too badly; I had gotten my meal and made some conversation with another person, though it could have gotten better.

When I reached my room and took another glance at its appalling state I didn't even have the energy to gag. I was that tired. I looked over to the sorry excuse of a bed and thought, screw it, it wouldn't hurt to sleep on the thing for one night.

After many attempts at getting into a somewhat comfortable position, I finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 _Now you may be wondering, how is a child no older than a teenager able to recount and record all this? The truth of the matter is, they're not. Currently, I am drifting along in space, ready to die at any moment and I've been writing this 'journal' of sorts for two purposes. One, drifting through space for god knows how long is the most boring thing ever and two, well, I might as have done it, since there was nothing else to do._

 _I suppose that I haven't told you about myself, and if I don't start describing some of the physical appearances of the major characters soon, it would be detrimental to the story on a whole. So here it goes, think of these as sort of codex entries of information that I haven't been able to fit into the story without it sounding awkward._

 _Ahem, my name is Jackson Saryn and a class 4 to 5 psionic when I was first tested by my father. I have dark hair and skin as pale as a ghost's. I am said to be quite tall for my age (at the time that I'm writing this) and I have gotten a fetish for knowledge since I found those data-pads I was talking about. That's about it for now._

 _If I can keep living for much longer, I may continue these journal entries, detailing this series of unfortunate events that my life had become._

* * *

 **Hey, a new chapter is out! Any support and feedback is appreciated and encouraged, so tell me your thoughts on the story so far. If you hate it, by all means, hate it, but say why. Also, these codex entries at the end of chapters are not going to be a frequent thing, in case you were wondering. They'll only show up every one in a while to highlight important characters in the story. I also slightly edited the previous chapter slightly, but nothing major. As you can probably tell, these are going to be short chapters with about a week, maybe less in between, since I am a novice writer and I don't won't to feel very rushed, so if you appreciate a shorter story, since I only plan on this being about 50k - 60k words, then good for you. Otherwise, tell me which ark you want to be longer, and I'll take the advice to heart. See you next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own whatever it is I do not own, namely, the Starcraft franchise.**

 **Bold = Not part of story**

 _Itallics =_ Emphasis on certain words or codex entries

Normal = Story

 **Chapter 3:**

I woke to a sharp pain in my, well everywhere. I'm surprised that I managed to fall asleep at all to be honest. Trying to sit up elected in a sharp pain in my side and I winced. I opted for rolling off the bed instead, as to mitigate the pain, even if it did look stupid.

I groaned when I tried to get up, but it was better than last time. I cringed upon seeing the state the room was in again, but decided to not do anything about it for now. I wasn't a maid (not that we had any) and nor was I a girl who would pamper their room until it hurt just to look at it. I thought about repainting the walls later, but that was the extent of my care at the time.

I headed off into the direction of the cafeteria, only this time, there was almost everyone in the transport there. I say almost since thankfully the captain wasn't present at the time. Mordecai handed me my rations without incident, as was required of his routine.

I went to an empty table and nobody paid me any heed as I ate my meal. As I chewed my eyes began to wander to the people around me. Nobody was within what I could call my age group. Everyone was an adult, talking about boring adult things, namely politics and alcohol. Not that I knew what that was at the time, even after speaking with Mordecai last night I was just bluffing, trying to sound tough.

* * *

I was bored. There was nothing to do. This transport is small and cramped. My idea of exploring as a child was much vaguer than it is now. Back then, my mind was venturing along the lines of: find a map, find treasure, find some sort of ultimate secret, honestly, I could've expected anything back then. Zerg, Protoss, some sort of ancient Xel'naga, perhaps even an undiscovered species, you name it. I had read about those on the data pads I had found earlier, but due to the limited information they provided, my rather out of proportion imagination filled in most of the blanks.

The Zerg were apparently a savage insectoid species, dubbed the scourge of humanity. I pictured them as whatever insects I had seen at the station, which unsurprisingly had been very little.

The Protoss were tall, humanoid beings capable of telepathy and telekinesis. They didn't have many facial features apart from their eyes, which I found quite puzzling at the time. They were also fond of energy based weapons. In my opinion, they seemed pretty cool.

The last were the Xel'naga. There was a minimal amount of information on them. They are known as gods who had created the Protoss and Zerg. They also resided in the void. There was nothing else on them. For all I knew, they could look like anything, from old men to a mere presence or shadow watching over you.

During my little venture, the one thing I didn't expect was to find nothing.

Yup, absolutely nothing. This transport, was only large enough to accommodate only the most necessary things. There was no attic space for a secret base or chained beast. I explored every inch of this ship that I could, being careful and sensible enough to avoid the captain and not snoop around other people's personal quarters. If anything, they were probably as bad as mine.

I went back to my room, defeated. Now, trust me when I say this but, I cleaned it. Or what I could clean anyways. I could live with rusted and rundown walls and almost no possessions. It may be small, but that didn't mean that the previous owner couldn't leave his junk everywhere. What I could improve, however, was the fact that I step and trip over countless objects on the way to bed. There were old glass bottles, boxes and pieces of peeled paint and scrap metal, all of which I threw into a pile in the corner of the room. At least that way they wouldn't bother anyone. Bins were not a leisure I had access to.

Then everything went to hell.

* * *

The first thing that signalled that something was wrong was the fact that explosions were rocking the ship. The other thing was that I could hear people screaming and shouting, panicking and running about. My instincts took over and I hid under the bed, even if it wouldn't have stopped a single bullet regardless.

The other people on the ship were also psionics I told myself, trying to think rationally, though it was more to just convince myself that I was safe. Even if they weren't, there would likely be some sort of Prometheus soldier here in case something like this happened.

I felt the tears running down my face as I curled up into a ball, failing miserably to shut it all out. I swore I heard gunshots.

Either the Moebius Foundation or the Dominion had found us. Neither seemed particularly good.

-Line Break-

More screams. I didn't even notice the tears running down my face. I couldn't even try to lie to myself, thinking everything was going to be okay. My mind was in shock, and my body had shut down. I couldn't even think at this point.

It felt like an eternity before the screams and the running died down. Was it over? I stayed like I was, just to be safe. Was everyone dead? Maybe. There was no way to be sure, unless I checked. It's like Schrödinger's cat in a sense, that they were both dead and alive until I checked.

Curiosity killed the cat. I eventually got out from beneath the bed and decided to see if everything was alright.

There was blood on the walls. I almost backed out at this point.

There was some on the floor, as well. I felt like throwing up.

Heck, some even got onto the ceiling somehow.

I continued to walk down the corridors, horrified at what I was seeing. I stumbled into the cafeteria. All the bottles were smashed and the tables were flipped over.

And more blood. There were no bodies, and with no sign of anyone in the near vicinity, I decided to look elsewhere.

I found the storage area, where I was locked up not too long ago. It was untouched and there was no blood. No people either. Seeing as it had nothing of use to me, I continued looking elsewhere.

The infirmary, I told myself. If there was blood, but no bodies, they were either disposed of, or they are still alive, to some degree.

* * *

 _Locked._ The door to the infirmary was locked. Either I didn't have access to it, or someone was trying to keep me out. It was like those click based adventure games. Nothing progressed until you found things and used them to solve puzzles. Right now, I needed to find some sort of override or an access card with higher 'authority'.

I neared the bridge, hoping that what I was looking for was there. There was a lot of blood now.

That was when I saw the body. Or rather, the _bodies_.

* * *

 **A/N: Wooh, new chapter. Remember, critique and reviews are always welcome.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the franchises I am writing about.**

 **Chapter 4:**

I could barely recognise them. Hard to do that when they were drenched in blood, filled with bullet holes and maimed. But, despite all that, I still knew that they were the same people that I saw in the cafeteria earlier. Gone now.

There was about three or four of them. Strewn around the closed entrance to the bridge like ragdolls.

Those weren't the only thing I saw. Large, bulky power-armour. Marines. I could tell that they belonged to the Dominion. The mixture of red paint and blood confirmed it. They had found us and they had tried to capture us or kill us or whatever they were attempting to do.

As far as I could see, they had failed. The marines were all dead. So were the people I had seen outside the bridge. Their weapons were all taken. I wasn't alone on this ship. I needed to get into the infirmary as soon as possible.

I decided to enter the bridge, seeing as I could get in. It was, surprisingly clean, to be honest. A multitude of different screens were flashing all manner of warning signs, which I ignored.

I couldn't find anything that looked even remotely like what I was looking for. No access card, nor were there any passcodes or remote door controls.

But I found something else. It was bulky and had a dull silver colour to it. A gun. A six-chambered gauss pistol to be precise. It felt heavy in my hands. Though it would be a heavy burden to carry, nor did I even know how to exactly use it, or even check if it was even loaded, I still took it with me and put it in my duffle-bag carefully. Aim and pull the trigger was all I knew. That would have to be enough.

Finding nothing else, I once again decided to check the infirmary door again. Perhaps I slid my card in the wrong way? There was nothing else of use on the bridge anyways. I didn't dare to look at the bodies on my way out.

 _Error. Access Denied._ I tried again. And again. And again. I tried inserting and swiping the card in every way I could think of. Someone was trying to keep me out.

And then it hit me. If there was someone in there, then perhaps I just had to let them know I was here? Maybe the rest of the crew was in here and I was the one trapped outside with what could possibly be, another soldier.

So, I tried knocking this time. _Silence._ More knocking. _More silence._ I knocked again, this time, even my frustration managed to seep into my fist. At first there was silence again, before a chilling and raspy voice answered, " _…Open it…"_

The door slid open and what I saw horrified me more than any dead body could. Fearful faces filled my peripheral vision, but that wasn't what I was focused on. No, what I was focused were the two people right in front of me.

The first one I noticed was the captain, my father, on his knees, head hung low. There was a gun pointed to his head.

That's where the second figure came in. He, at least, I thought he was male, wore a full body suit, slimmer than those of the marines, but was still fitted with numerous armour plates that covered vital organs and other weak spots.

" _Another lamb joins the slaughter…"_ The figure's head turned towards me, green tinted optical visors spinning. Though I saw it as another Dominion soldier at the time, looking back at it, I now knew that I was looking directly at a Dominion Ghost. Their secret agents. That voice chilled me to the bone and sent shivers down my spine to this day.

I couldn't even move. Here was a real Dominion soldier, alive and armed. His attention was diverted back to the captain, who was making a miserable attempt at getting away, shuffling slowly away. That wasn't going to work in a thousand years. A hard hit to the head with the butt of the Ghost's canister rifle was enough to silence him, and perhaps any more rebellious thoughts too.

Nobody else in the room was armed. They were all on their knees, frightened or nervous expressions were adorned on everyone's face. I even managed to steal a glimpse of tears in some of them.

Well shit, looks someone's going to die soon. This is to be expected. We've got a trained assassin, the captain looked pissed, and I've got a handgun, all in the same room.

" _Turn this ship around now,"_ the Ghost ordered, pushing the captain forward with his rifle. He looked ready to explode right now, but he had to follow the Ghost's orders if we wanted to live. The rest of us had to follow them to the bridge, hands behind our heads. Looks like he wasn't taking any chances.

I stayed near the back of the line, fingering the gun. Would it work? Was it even loaded? What if I couldn't figure out how to operate it properly? What if I missed? If the Ghost could read my mind, he could tell that I was having the same nervous thoughts as everybody else, with no direct giveaway to what I was about to try.

* * *

All of us managed to fill up about half the space in the bridge. The Ghost whispered something to the Captain at the navigational console, presumably coordinates. This was the last straw for the Captain, who, at this, swung his large, burly fist and planted it onto the Ghost's chest, causing the special agent to fly across the room, hitting the wall.

He didn't even have a chance to recuperate before the Captain was on him again, landing punch after punch to the head, screaming like a madman. The lens on the Ghost's visor began to crack and the material around it adopted a dark red hue. Then those screams of fury morphed into shrieks of pain and the Captain began clutching his head in agony. A psionic assault on the mind.

This was the Ghost's chance to end him. There were likely other people who knew how to pilot the transport.

This was my time to act. Careful to stay out of sight, I took the handgun out, and levelled it at the Ghost, my hands shaking in anticipation.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I was too frightened to turn around. I just had to steady my hands and take one good shot. The added pain of a bullet stuck in his body would open him up to a psionic assault from the crew.

"Hey kid, Jackson, was it? Let me do it," what I instantly recognised as Mordecai's voice got me to pause. He motioned towards the firearm in my hands. Great, another difficult decision. Either I take the shot now that I'm ready, or I could trust Mordecai to do the right thing.

Each choice had its flaws and advantages. If I decided to take the shot, we could easily get rid of the Ghost. If I'm lucky I could even hit a vital organ. I've also got a clear shot at my target. The downside to this, is that I still don't know if I have it correctly loaded (It was a six-chambered pistol, like in those Western style movies, only bulkier). I also don't have any experience with shooting, so I could easily miss and lose this chance.

However, if I let Mordecai take the shot, he likely has more experience with using guns, and probably knows how to correctly use this one, unlike me. The downside to letting him take the shot though, is that he doesn't have an as clear a shot as I do at the Ghost. In addition to this, he could just as easily shoot the Captain too, as he sure wouldn't mind getting rid of him, wasting the element of surprise, and our only shot at this.

It's a tough choice, but I think I know what to do.

 **A/N: Sorry for the late-ish upload, but stuff got in the way of that, I hope you don't mind. Also, do you guys like the way I portray this Ghost? I know I made his dialogue a bit too much creepy-cliche, but he won't stay around that much longer anyways. Feedback and criticism is always appreciated.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own the franchises blah blah blah...**

 **Chapter 5:**

I shuffled aside to let Mordecai get a better look. I then handed the pistol to him carefully, as to not be seen by the Ghost. He seemed to flip the gun from hand to hand, and pressing and pulling some other contraptions that made up the weapon. "Aim for the Ghost," I told him and he gave a light nod. Now that I had a better look at him I could see that his face was red and bruised. There was dry blood on his forehead.

Things weren't looking good for our side. The captain had lost his element of surprise and the special agent pressed his advantage. After being struck repeatedly in the face the Ghost had launched the Captain to the far side of the room with his psionics.

The captain laid there, dazed. That's when the Ghost managed to upholster his sidearm, and levelled it at the Captain. I ushered Mordecai to take the shot now. He pretended to ignore me.

The Ghost didn't wait around. Just as the Captain was regaining his balanced he took his shot. Right between the eyes. The Captain dropped to the floor once more, dead.

" _Useless scum…"_ He spat, as the shrieked in horror.

Then a second shot was heard. There was a loud bang followed by a buzzing filled my ears, seeing as I was basically holding my ear right next to the gun as it fired.

The Ghost staggered back as a red splat spread out from its torso, giving a lengthy cry of pain while he was at it. I turned to Mordecai, just as shocked as everybody else. He smiled grimly. "Well, that's two problems taken care of," he muttered.

I didn't have any more time to ponder on it as the Ghost regained as much of his composure as he could and growled at us. He hefted his sidearm directly at us and both Mordecai and I had to scramble away to avoid being shot in return.

I heard another bang just before I reached one of the two exits to the bridge. Had Mordecai been shot? Had the Ghost missed?

I didn't even look back as I raced down the corridors away from the bridge, adrenaline fuelling my run. I ignored the open door to my room, focused on getting even further away from the bridge.

I skidded to a halt once I had entered the cafeteria, closing the door behind me. I saw Mordecai further down the room, panting, gun in hand. He must've gotten here before me, I realised.

After a moment of catching our breaths, we mutually decided to acknowledge each other's presence.

The man looked even worse for wear now. In addition to being bruised, he was also exhausted and his hands were sore from firing the higher than average calibre pistol. He didn't seem to be injured any more than that.

"Are you… alright there… lad?" the waiter managed to make out between breaths. I nodded.

"Good, follow me… In case the Ghost catches up to us," he continued and made his way behind the counter. "Through here," Mordecai motioned to the wall, as if that explained anything.

He took his hand and pushed against the wall in what I would have called a puzzling action, if not for the space that appeared where his hand was before.

It took an embarrassingly long amount of time for me to figure out what sort of dark magic this was.

A sliding door. I felt extremely stupid at that moment, and I heard Mordecai chuckle.

We entered what looked like a storage area similar to the one I had become accustomed to and gave of the vibe of a wine cellar. Perhaps Mordecai stored his beverages here?

Continuing past the storage crates was an empty space that Mordecai nudged me towards. "Well set up a barricade with the crates, lest the Ghost find us," he explained and I nodded.

We began the gruelling process of shoving the crates into a ramshackle fortification that at least offered some sort of immediate protection from any firearms the Ghost could be armed with when he enters.

After getting behind our wall we placed our attention on the closed door and waited. Mordecai levelled the handgun at the door in preparation for the inevitable. I kept my eye on it as well.

And we waited.

And waited.

And more waiting.

I was tempted to look behind me back at this point, it was taking that long. Did the Ghost not know where we were? You'd think that a trained psionic user would be able to detect other people within a confined area, but he don't seem to be demonstrating that.

Even Mordecai was beginning to fidget with his hair.

"I don't think he's coming for us," I voiced my mind.

"Perhaps it is safe to go out," Mordecai responded and we simultaneously began slowly creeping towards the door.

We stopped at the door, before Mordecai opened it, immediately pointing the gun in an ark, in case anyone was there.

But the cafeteria was deserted. Seeing that nobody was near, and since he was armed, Mordecai took the lead out of the cafeteria.

We cleared every room one by one, with nobody in them, with me always shadowing the armed bartender as he kicked opened doors and swung his gun around menacingly.

Even the infirmary was devoid of life. I would have expected that at least the captain would be brought here, but I guess he really was dead if nobody had bothered to bring him here.

We left the infirmary not long after we entered.

As we neared the bridge we could just make out muffled voices coming from inside. Careful to avoid the bloodied corpses, we cautiously made our way closer to the door, trying to eves drop on whoever was speaking inside.

"This… all… that… …fault… get… rid… him…" were the words we could just make out.

Not wanting to be left in the dark any more, Mordecai slid his access card through the lock and opened the door.

All eyes in the room instantly landed on us, their expressions filled with a mix of despair, hate, anger, fear and sadness. Some of them even bore tears of their faces.

I would've thought that was because Mordecai held a gun in his hand, but pretty soon I saw that wasn't the case. For the past few moments, these people's concentration was solely focused on the three addition corpses in the room.

I could make out two at that. I could easily recognise the Captain, his lifeless body slumped at the far side of the room, bullet between the eyes.

In the centre of the room lied the body of the Ghost, face down in a slowly growing pool of blood. The special suit was now teared in many places with his rifle broken nearby. His sidearm was being held by one of the colonists.

The third corpse lied surrounded by the rest of the crew, with numerous bruises and bullet wounds clearly visible on their body.

If I were to guess, this was the Ghost's final victim before their deaths.

The rest of the crew, apart from a few bruises, were for the most part unharmed. The mumbling must have been the rest of the colonists grieving and saying their prayers.

I didn't even sleep that night, for fear of the nightmares that I might face from what I saw that day. Instead, I ended up staying up with the majority of the crew in the cafeteria, discussing today's events and what will happen to us.

In short, we had been boarded by a small squad of Dominion troops, led by that Ghost. The only reason most of us made it out alive was because they were here to capture us, and had orders against killing us.

Men were elected to dump the bodies out the airlock, lest disease were to manifest while we were away from civilization.

Then, came the election of a new captain, since the previous one had, well, you know, died. Most had opted to elect someone who had fought against the intruders, but unfortunately almost all of them had died in the process.

With that criteria in place, it wasn't long before people had started choosing Mordecai for the new captain, since he had laid the first shot against the Ghost, and had a high charisma among the crew.

After that, the crew had started going off to bed, too tired to clean to blood, promising to clean it after they had recovered.

Only Mordecai remained in the room, cleaning a wine glass that had some blood left on it.

Since I wasn't planning on going to sleep any time soon, I sat at the table in front of him, lost in my own thoughts.

"Hey kid, rough night huh?" The bartender asked after noticing me. I only managed a nod in response. "I'll get you a meal, if you have the appetite for one that is," he continued. I nodded again.

Mordecai disappeared back behind the sliding door into his, well I hesitate to use the word cellar, but I have no other word to describe it. I was once again left to my own muddled thoughts.

The previous captain, my father was dead. Strangely, I felt no sympathy for him.

There were the killed crew members, thrown out the airlock. I guess I felt a little sorry for them, but I hadn't even known them. It only lowered my opinion of the Dominion.

If I had a choice at this point, I would have sided with Moebius, but it was too late for that.

* * *

I ate my meal in silence, thanked Mordecai for the meal, and stumbled to my room. The bed looked unnaturally inviting, and I couldn't help but lie down on it.

It wasn't long before I drifted into a deep sleep. One so deep that not even the thoughts of blood, death and the Dominion couldn't rouse me.

* * *

 _Time I did another codex entry isn't it? This time I'll describe Mordecai, and then move on to how my current predicament has progressed. Mordecai usually wears a dark coat with slightly lighter pants. He keeps the handgun that I found in his possession, and I suspect he has Ghost's one as well. Like I said previously, he has a very large moustache, which he prides greatly, but often fiddles with. He's usually easy going, but can be quite serious when the situation calls for it._

 _You get the picture by now I guess. Back to my current problem. Well, nothing has changed much. Rations are dwindling and I think I have stumbled across someone's guilty pleasure._

 _Fuel reserves are below 50%. I think I'll save the rest for when I find a habitable planet or station._

* * *

 **A/N: I might change this so it's just a Rwby and Starcraft, just because I might not get a chance to include FTL in this. If you've come just for the Rwby part of this, then sorry to disappoint, but it's going to take me a while to get to that part. I am also going to edit the prologue to say that as well. Criticism is always appreciated.**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own any franchises, yeah yeah you get the drill.**

 **Chapter 6:**

The rest of the trip into Umojan space was, quite peaceful, considering what had happened up to this point. Mordecai acted as captain and bartender, alternating between his roles when called for.

I was able to practice using my psionics for the rest of the trip. I found that some shady guy with these tinted goggles on his forehead. He was training some other civilians on how they should train using their psionics, and kind of just joined in.

It was enlightening, being taught what I could use my gift for, and even how to use it. Since I wasn't powerful enough to immediately sense people's thoughts, I was trained on how to enter them.

If I had to describe it, the people who could already read people's thoughts were like fish in water, constantly in the know of what was around them.

Entering someone's mind was akin to diving into water, and being able to see under it the person's thoughts.

At first, if I focused too hard, it was like I was fading in and out of consciousness. Later, it felt like I could look at two screens at once, with one being me, and the other showed the person's thoughts.

In time, there will be more monitors, was what the shady man had told us.

After he was satisfied with our progress, we went on to mental barriers. These were slightly trickier.

First of all, we had to learn how to sense when someone was intruding into our minds. This was followed by trying to shut them out and then trying keep them out. This would train us in defence as well as offense, as once you've gotten into someone's mind, you could do whatever you wanted in there until you were shut out.

This entire routine took several days for our group to even make any progress in. Fortunately, we still had a long amount of time before we arrived at our destination.

Our 'club' was becoming larger and larger as more gifted civilians, which was basically the entire crew as they joined in. Through our training, we came to know each other, and what their personalities were.

Turns out, even though I was the only child on board, I could still perform exercises better than even some adults. Some older teenagers had even asked me for help with their training. I felt so proud at that moment.

Even the shady man, wasn't so shady anymore. Turns out, he is a Prometheus soldier who had stayed here to oversee our evacuation. Only about half our group knows this. He said he would reveal his secrets to whoever was able to pry them from his mind.

Of course, since he didn't want his mind to be fried, he basically put the fact up on a billboard in his mind, nor did he set many mental barriers, as breaking them could still result in brain injury.

By the time we arrived, all of us had become good acquaintances with each other and were prepared for the new war free life that awaited us below.

* * *

Pretty much everyone was bubbling with excitement when we docked at a Prometheus station at the edge of Umojan space. Thoughts like 'we're going to meet actual people after so long' were being thrown around relentlessly between us.

Of course, it was Mordecai who shattered our fun saying "Alright people, we've arrived at our designated refuelling station. Please remain within the transport until I come back."

Lots of silent curses were thrown around between us after that. Especially since our mentor was able to go out as well.

This prompted some of us to try to spy on the people within the station, which honestly, as a refuelling station wasn't very impressive, just over twice the size of our transport. This made things easier for us, and we took full advantage of that fact.

Since we couldn't see whose mind we were trying to enter, made this task still very difficult. The Prometheus soldier hadn't told us how to expand our minds to sense others like a radar would. Because of that, we had to improvise.

Since we were taught to directly enter someone's mind by focusing on them, we tried to guide our minds like missiles into the station, moving around like ethereal beings until we found someone.

For some of us, they could only reach the start of the station. Others were searching in places outside the station completely. Even those who were successfully exploring the station had a hard time finding anyone.

I for one, only had access to the closer side of the station. My mind was like a lost spirit, wandering around aimlessly until it found someone.

And out of nowhere, I found someone. It was likely to be a station guard or worker, but it was someone none the less.  
There was one problem though. I had already exhausted much of my mental power, and trying to enter this person's mind was like trying to dive deep into water with air bags strapped all over your body. Practically impossible.

I exited my mental trance and sighed, defeated. It was a nice exercise though.

I went back to my room to rest while Mordecai returned with more fuel for the final part of our trip.

* * *

Soon after I had gone to my room, most of the crew had followed suit, and by the time Mordecai returned, we were all doing our own thing.

While Mordecai went to set us on course for our final destination, the Prometheus soldier called as over at the cafeteria during dinner.

"Right, whose bright idea was it to try to spy on us?" he asked, his irritation clearly visible. None of us answered.

"Who went along with the idea to try to spy on us?" he continued. This time, all of us raised our hands. The soldier sighed. He hadn't told us to not do it, so he couldn't exactly punish us for it, but it was still irresponsible.

"Who succeeded in spying on us?" he asked. Once again, nobody raised their hands. What followed were more gruelling exercises on how we should, and shouldn't try to look for someone with our minds.

This took up the majority of the rest of our trip to wherever we were meant to be going, since kids like me weren't supposed to know those things.

By the time we got there however, most of us could sense and discern each other at opposite ends of the ship, excluding Mordecai since he isn't psionically gifted.

He told us that we could sense each other because those with psionic potential left what's called a "Psionic Imprint" on our minds, which is the reason we could find each other, but not Mordecai.

Before landing, the soldier, whose name we finally learned was Jerome, tested our psionic abilities and tried to place them of the psionic index from 0 to 10. I had gone up to a solid 6.5, with others having similar scores between 5 and 7.5, with one person having a rating of 8.

And that was the rating I had _before_ landing.

 **End Chapter.**

* * *

 **A/N: Shorter chapter this time. Reviews and criticism is one of the best ways for me to improve and fix my mistakes, so please do if you don't want this story to suck less.**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Starcraft, someone else does.**

 **Chapter 7:**

The area was so crowded it hurt just to be there. The smell, the heat and the voices only added to that fact. It was to be expected of course, since we were just about to land at our new home.

It was an agricultural world called Icarus lV, Mordecai had told us, not that it made much difference to us. We were just happy to be able to get off this ship.

As such, everybody had gathered their supplies and began to wait in excited anticipation of what was to come, me included.

Even waiting for what was supposed to be a few hours didn't bother anyone. There was so much to expect, so many last-minute checks of whatever we had to do. People could get together to talk and fantasize about their future.

I for one didn't really mind being able to begin a more laidback life as a farmer and cultivate whatever grew there. In fact, most of the crew was already content with that, with the horrors we witnessed earlier.

And our steadily improving psionic powers would only make our jobs easier. In fact, Jerome had informed us only minutes before our landing was announced that we would attempt to practice our telekinesis once we were down planet side.

This only made us more excited for landing. An emotion felt by every crew member, that not even the expected boredom of hours of restless waiting could downplay.

It was also around this time that I had a bright idea. I pushed my way out of the mass of bodies at the end of the transport before rushing to the infirmary as fast as I could.

Success! There was nobody inside to disturb me. I strode over to the infirmary window and marvelled at the sight, distorted though as much as it was, it was still breath taking.

The blue lakes and rivers, coupled with the grey marks of civilization and dusty orange plains looked absolutely magical to my adolescent eyes. I felt like I could stare at it for hours.

And for the second time in my life, I didn't notice someone approaching because of a mesmerizing sight. Once again, the figure approached with non-hostile intentions at first, but that was all due to change.

"Enjoying the view are we Jackson?" a calm voice behind me whispered in my ear. I turned around nervously, a sense of déjà vu washing over me.

I saw Mordecai grinning, with what looked like a small group of people behind him. Just like that, my plan was ruined.

"You wouldn't mind if some of my friends could look as well?" He asked, still grinning like a maniac. I could only nod in defeat.

"Oh come on, don't pout! There is enough room to go around here," he exclaimed, motioning around the room.

I mumbled my agreement.

Like Mordecai said, there was enough room to go around, and we could all admire the magnificent sight that beheld us.

I could hear some people talking about how they will settle down, what they will do, and pointing out landmarks on the planet. I for one was content with the thought of landing somewhere safe.

Away from the horrors. Away from the war. Away from death.

This is what we needed now. Things were looking up for a change.

* * *

Trying to land at the star-port had to be one of my most uncomfortable experiences ever. The pained groans of the people around me attested to that.

It was like being inside a speeding train as it derailed, and then was subjected to a multitude of barrel rolls and cartwheels. A very unpleasant experience indeed.

At least we had the mercy of the monstrous landing only lasting a few minutes, even though it felt much longer. Much to my surprise, the landing went quite smoothly, as the maintenance crews reported when we were finally able to exit the transport.

We glanced around to what looked like a large hanger, with a plethora of other starships with repair crews milling about them like ants. It vaguely resembled the Prometheus station we had escaped from, likely because this station was owned by the same company.

Only this one was many times more impressive. The Dominion raids made on outlying stations had prevented them from expanding, whereas the one on Icarus lV had no such hindrance.

Even though it likely wouldn't be able to accommodate a Battlecruiser any time soon, it was still able to manufacture Wraiths, Banshees, Valkyries and Science Vessels, all of which I recognised and remembered reading about in the data-logs oh so long ago.

Speaking of which, the prospect of being able to learn more about the world excited me just as much as being able to settle down excited the others.

But before I could gawk at the place any more, Mordecai rounded us up and told us something that only fuelled our anticipation further.

"I'm going to report to the Magistrate in command here, and then we'll be able to decide where we will head off after that," he informed us before setting out.

* * *

Waiting for Mordecai to return didn't bother me. It just meant I had more time to admire the ingenious level of engineering before me.

The level of hard work, blood, sweat and tears that went into making these machines of war truly impressed me.

Sure, they were used to fight, but these designs are what saved our race from extinction at the hands of the Zerg and Protoss.

And they don't even have to be used for war. Wraiths and Banshees had the ability to cloak themselves, allowing for the use of covert operations if Ghosts weren't available.

I was able to thoroughly examine all of the more interesting ships as much as I was allowed to before Mordecai returned.

He brought news of our acceptance onto the planet, the ability to claim any unowned land or living in the city, a map and a brochure of landmarks this place had to offer. This was right around the point where I tuned out of the conversation.

The combined crowd of about twenty adults huddled around one man and my insignificance as a child gave me no leverage in the situation. I had to make due with reading the brochure for anything interesting.

It turns out that there is more to be cultivated than one might think. While the fauna wasn't very impressive, there was much in the business of refining vespene gas, mining metals, and cultivating flora. There was also the option of becoming an engineer or pilot at the star-port, but that was out of my reach for the time being.

Having looked through all the major headings in the brochure, I found my eyes wandering to the 'fun facts' section. Apparently crown prince Valerian had sought refuge on this planet in the times of the Confederacy. Hopefully it didn't mean that Moebius would come after us soon.

Fortunately, it seems things have been sorted out by the adults, and we were on the move once more.

* * *

We found out upon leaving the star-port that it was actually built in conjunction with a prosperous town, which isn't that surprising, considering the business that could be done with all the foreigners coming and going from here.

Our group had to manoeuvre around the different buildings and huts that made up the local settlement. They weren't huts literally, looking more like cabins and trailers that anything else, but there were also markets, fuel stations and other necessities that you would expect to see in a settlement like this. There was also the large star-port to account for, which from the outside looked like a disfigured three pointed star, from which a large neo-steel frame made up the rest of the structure.

With the star-port nearby, this settlement prospered by relying on the incoming people that came here for repairs and supplies – basically a harbour town.

* * *

It took many turns of different people spinning the map in all manner of ways, pointing out directions in random directions that brought us to a variety of intriguing places and much bickering among themselves before we arrived at our original destination.

I can't exactly remember where we were, but there was a personnel carrier that was manned by Prometheus agents. It reminded me of the transport ship we had been on only recently. Only difference now was this one was more cramped.

* * *

At least this time the journey was shorter. Much shorter in fact, seeing how it only took about five hours to get us to wherever were meant to go.

We left the personnel carrier to find ourselves in a forest clearing, with a river audible nearby. There were already a few cabins located in the clearing, an estimated one kilometre in diameter, maybe slightly less.

More cabins and buildings were under construction in the clearing as well. By the time I was able to make a complete observation of the campsite, the personnel carrier had disappeared down the road on which it came from.

On one hand, they had abandoned us, on the other hand, we had been left to our own devices.

The locals chose this time to reveal and present themselves before us. There were two families, each from their own cabin. I didn't pay much attention to what the adults had to say between each other, but I did notice that there was a small boy peeking out from behind his parents.

It was about time I found someone I could socialise with, but more on that later.

* * *

While Mordecai was discussing whatever he had to discuss, Jerome brought the rest of us over to one of the unfinished buildings.

"Alright people, now's a good a time as any to practice," he told us. He demonstrated by lifting a steel rod with his mind. We watched in awe in response.

Since we had to have some sort of shelter built before nightfall, the more physically capable adults set out to work with their bare hands, whereas the younger or weaker ones practiced telekinesis – that includes me if you didn't know.

This time, Jerome told us that to levitate objects, we had to extend our consciousness to them, like an arm and lift it, as opposed to fully diving into a person's mind.

This exercise of course, worked for some and not for others. We started off with pebbles and small rocks, holding them up high, and keeping them in the air for as long as possible when we let go.

Once most of us had a general grasp on that, we had to lift the pebbles from the ground as high as we were able to. While this stumped a couple people, most of us could get it to work.

Fearful of potential psionic backlash for those who were struggling, Jerome halted the exercises to allow us to take a break. He explained that our abilities worked much like a muscle, which can be overexerted, be bent in ways they're not supposed to bend in and can be damaged. But it can also grow in power the more it is used, as opposed to the more common misconception that people are born with more power than others and there was nothing that could change that.

There were rare exceptions of course, like Nova Terra or Sarah Kerrigan, but like I said, these are rare. People like these are the reason psionic dampeners were made, but were issued to all Ghost agents for fear of what they could achieve but I digress.

Psionic backlash would occur when someone overexerted their psionic power past their limits, which often resulted in major headaches, damage to the brain and sometimes in extreme cases madness or death.

Another thing to note was that our psionic power was similar to a multi-tool, in the fact that a person might favour a certain part of it over another, and some might develop a certain part of it more than another. It worked like how some people might be strong, but slow or fast, but lacking strength.

Psionic power can also be effected in the same way adrenaline effects our muscles. While adrenaline doesn't necessarily effect our brain, which develops the muscle that triggers psionic abilities, strong emotions can influence a person's actions and their power, such as rage, sadness, shock or fear.

If I were to rate myself, I would think that I did average on both mental manipulation, which involved mind reading and mind control and physical manipulation, which consisted of altering physical objects using telekinesis or empowering our ammunition, which Ghosts were trained to do.

* * *

The last part of our exercises made us partner up, taking turns to throw pebbles in front of the other person, who had to stop them mid-air. Those that succeeded in this then had to attempt to them at makeshift targets as accurately as possible from ever increasing distances.

About half of our group had trouble at this point, and about a quarter of them dropped out at this point.

* * *

After taking another break, it was now mid-afternoon. The ones that had shown promise in telekinesis were now practising moving the building materials for our cabins, like metal plating and supports.

About half of our remaining group could do this with little difficulty, including me. Manipulating them so that they could effectively fit into the correct places? Yeah, not so much. A few of us were able to do it, about three or four, with little difficulty, while I struggled.

I opted practice throwing pebbles instead. It doesn't sound impressive, I know, but at least it was a weapon I could use. Maybe I could hunt animals with this, though not any time soon.

By the time nightfall came around, we had one cabin completely finished, and another one nearly completed. Five people were able to sleep inside, using their baggage for comfort, while the rest of us slept outside.

It was still better than sleeping in the transport ship cells, that's for sure.

* * *

 _Codex Time! This time I shall be writing about Jerome, our mentor and trainer. He is actually quite short, but we all respect him. He is dark skinned and always wears these construction goggles on his forehead. He's a Prometheus agent sent to supervise us during our evacuation and onward. I suspect he was the one who brought me to the infirmary._

 _Rations are running low here, enough for maybe a week at most. I can just make out a green planet in the distance, but it could be my imagination. If you find this journal in a shipwreck, then I probably crashed into it._

* * *

 **End Chapter**

 **A/N: Longer chapter this time. If you feel I am rushing the events that happen here or in future, then please do tell, though I am semi-aware of it. I feel as if I am putting off many people by sticking mostly to Starcraft here, so I am trying to get to the Rwby part of it as soon as possible.**

 **Pay attention to the codex entries more in future, as they will have a high impact on the real story in the future.**

 **As always, reviews and criticism are always welcome.**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Starcraft, but I would like to.**

 **Chapter 8: Timeskip**

The next morning, construction resumed. Nothing much else to it. The two local families had gone to the harbour town, we needed to finish the rest of the cabins.

It was already high noon by the time the personnel carrier had returned, and along with it were the local families and our supplies from aboard the transport.

Now we had access to alcohol, more tasteless rations and more building materials. Oh, and they Mordecai a rucksack or two. I presume that they were filled with seeds. We can't just live off of meat forever after all.

Speaking of which, Jerome was planning on taking us who couldn't really lift the construction materials out to hunt the indigenous fauna game. Pebbles were enough to kill whatever lurked in the forests was what he told us. After all, the previous old Earth generations used this method to hunt, and they survived.

We trekked towards the river we had heard earlier, and decided that the people who could throw with the highest accuracy and power would hunt the animals in the sky and on land.

Those of us who could effectively stop pebbles mid-flight were trying to catch the aquatic animals that could be found in the river.

Those that were trying their luck in the river didn't have much luck, apart from finding a couple edible crustaceans.

Those of us who were hunting land dwellers were also weren't faring too well either. We had encountered an armoured creature the size of a large canine. Our pebbles did little other than irritate and aggravate the creature.

And now the creature decided to charge us. Great. It was at this point that we decided we have had enough hunting, and decided to run for it. We took our finds with us as we took off towards our settlement, not wanting to be anywhere near the creature, dubbed a charger, any longer.

* * *

By the time we had arrived back at our camp, another cabin had been completed, and another one was almost completed. We had a celebratory feast for our first catches and for the opportunity to eat something other than those rations.

By the end of the day, another cabin had been completed and we were all able to sleep under a roof that night, though it was a bit cramped.

* * *

The following day, the final two cabins were completed.

The day after that, we were able to clear land for agriculture.

All of this, while training our psionic power.

The next day, I saw the local child spying on our group during psionics training. Not wanting to distract the rest of the trainees, I decided to read the boy's mind. Practice, you know.

What I saw quite shocked me. At first I contemplated whether I read the child's mind, and not someone else's. I tried again with the same response.

This kid harboured thoughts of suppressed revolt and hate while watching us. Words such as psionic, fault and other manner of unkind words popped up as well.

I could be wrong, but I think this child might hate us. I tucked the thought away, deciding to ask about it later.

On a more positive note, I was now able to launch multiple fist-sized rocks with acceptable power and accuracy. I still had to mimic the actions I am doing with my hands, to better channel my power, but at least it added to the awesome factor of my power.

I kept practising my mental exercises by reading the boy's mind over and over during our physical exercises, and I was eventually able to do both without being distracted by focusing on each action separately.

As far as I was concerned, life was good. We could hunt larger animals, hang out together, farm and be in no danger. If only it had stayed that way.

* * *

I spent approximately one more year on Icarus IV, until everything went oh so horribly wrong again.

Our settlement had soon attracted business. We exported meat and crops, in return for metals, and more people. We had a psionics training camp, led by Jerome. The schedule for it wasn't very strict, seeing as how everyone developed differently. I had advanced to an 8.0 on the rating scale. As my power was honed, my reading would be read more accurately, based on what I could do.

I was also able to find out what happened to that child I mentioned earlier. Apparently, he is also a refugee, along with his parents, who were gifted with psionic power, but he wasn't. He felt as if the entire universe was against him for this, both that he wasn't gifted, and that he was still being hunted for it. He's resorted to blaming all psionic users to cope with this stress.

Most of our original crew, having trained with Jerome the longest, were now able to hunt the chargers on their own, using their own tricks to deal with them. Those that were good with telekinesis used the environment to their advantage, pummelling their hard armour until it broke. Those that were adept with the way of the mind directly assaulted the creature's mind, frying it. It also left the armour in pristine condition, which they would they sell or use for their own needs. The first time I tried this, it gave the poor beast a seizure before it died.

It was actually kind of funny. It was a good thing I could commune with thoughts and images between peers as well as thoughts, since I didn't have a camera.

But, like I said, this didn't last. It took them a while, but the Dominion had finally decided to assault our bustling settlement. Our society was primitive. It was little more than a civilian colony. Our self-taught psionic users were no match for the specially trained Ghosts, and the mechanical, merciless killing machines that made up the Marine Corps.

Even with the Prometheus Company on hand, we stood no chance against them.

* * *

 _The planet is closer now. Much closer. I could make out golden specks on the surface as well. Were those lights? I didn't matter now. I only had a day's rations remaining. I'm going planet-side regardless of my non-existent piloting skills._

 **End Chapter**

 **A/N: Write a review if you think I could do something better, or PM me a question if you want to ask something. Sorry for the shorter chapter this time.**


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

I apologise for the use of this cliché, but it really was a normal day when it happened. I was relaxing, on the roof of my cabin (We could build our own if we wanted to), watching the people below me milling about, doing business, laughing, drinking. Doing normal things.

Key words there are 'when it happened', implying that 'it' still happened. And it did happen. The Dominion attacked. It began when the sun was blocked out in the middle of the day.

People gazed up towards the large, ominous **T** shape that the Minotaur class BattleCruiser was infamous for. It rained down fire and brimstone upon us, in the form of drop-pods landing in the forest nearby.

When the red Dominion insignia was recognised, it was as if an ant's nest was poked disturbed by a stick. Absolute chaos. It was an organised chaos as were all preparations for battle, but chaos nonetheless.

Ramshackle fortifications were set up, with sandbags and sheets of metal. People brandished firearms and the more powerful psionic users took out their supply of rocks. The children and the elderly were escorted and hidden in what looked like underground bunkers, or basements of some kind.

I went to where Mordecai, one of the town leaders at this point, was rallying the able bodied people to defend the town.

Many faces bore expressions of fear, sadness and anger. I knew some were already struggling to hold back tears.

Though his speech wasn't anything impressive, or worth quoting, Mordecai would be remembered for them. While it wasn't very inspiring, nor was he very charismatic, he still spurred us on and gave us hope, for what little it would do.

"They drive us out of our homes! They slaughter those who resist! And those that survive die on the inside. We came here seeking refuge from them, and they plan on taking that away as well! I say no more! I've had enough of this! We shall show them that we are not to be messed with! We will fight back on this day!" he preached to the crowd that had gathered, and a chorus of agreement followed.

People then began filling out of the town square, following a previously discussed plan of action, securing strategic positions to drive out the invaders.

As for Mordecai, he was heading back into the centre building in our settlement, our town hall. Not wanting to be left out, I followed him inside. The building was extremely spacious, two stories tall and resembled a fortress for us.

Mordecai took no time to admire the building, instead, purposely heading towards the bed on the far side of the room and dragging out a suitcase from underneath it. It was only when he swung it onto the bed did he notice me.

"You shouldn't be here, Jackson. It's not safe. Head back to the bunkers," he scolded me.

"But I want to help you! I can fight too!" I pleaded to him. It was an effort in vain.

Mordecai studied my face for moment before turning back to the case, and popped it open. Inside were two pistols, and multiple clips of ammunition for them. One was the gauss pistol I found on the transport, the other belonged to the Ghost.

It was the latter firearm that interested me. It had a sleek form, as opposed to the bulky one of the gauss pistol. It was nearly twice as long too, and looked to be more like a sub-machine gun than a pistol. There were no markings or identifications on it, so I assumed it was some kind of Dominion prototype.

Then the unthinkable happened. Mordecai handed me the second sidearm, along with two clips of ammunition for it.

"Here, take it with you to the bunkers. If they find you, protect the survivors with it. It's already loaded, and here's the safety," he told me, showing me a protruding piece of metal and flicking it up and down.

"Reload by pulling back the top of it, like this," he demonstrated and I nodded my understanding. "Good, now go and don't get caught!" He yelled before running out of the building.

I followed him out of the building, and was about to continue had I not seen the red clad army marching for our establishment.

From marines and marauders, the infantry of the Dominion, to the large war striders named Goliaths, which with their twin mounted auto-cannons could tear anyone to shreds, not to mention their anti-air missiles.

We didn't stand a chance, and I wasn't about to risk my life just to be able to throw rocks at them. Mordecai's option seemed much more appealing and sensible now, and I turned to run towards to bunkers.

* * *

The bunker was covered by a meter of soil before the hatch could be accessed. Air would reach the inhabitants through pipes that exited at the bottoms of the cabins nearby. These pipes were numerous and small, taking on the appearance of water maintenance pipes, so that no intruder may find out their purpose.

Food was stored in the forms of dried fruit and nuts, canned food and whatever else could be stored without a fridge for more than a few days.

It wouldn't stop multiple tank shells, and would likely be seen if one ruptured the ground above it, but it was the best we've got.

* * *

There were actually more than one bunker built for this purpose in our town. I wasn't sure how many, maybe two or three, but this wasn't the only one.

As for our bunker, the fifty or so civilians, including me were huddled at the back of the establishment, fearfully watching the man-sized hatch in the wall.

Only two other colonists in here had firearms of some sort, one wielding a pistol, the other was wielding some sort of rifle with lots of duck-tape all over it.

And with my strange Dominion issue weaponry we were ready for any Dominion interloper that dares enter our stronghold. Yup, we were prepared for anyone, anything. Totally ready…

That's what we thought until we heard the gunshots and explosions, screams and the sound of collapsing rubble. At that point, we weren't feeling very confident.

We were all crouched, silent, with nobody daring to make a sound.

We could hear the deep thump of Goliaths striding above us, the marching of the marines and the rumble of siege tanks.

* * *

Sometime past after that, and our group was getting antsy. We weren't sure if hours had passed, or if it was mere minutes, but things had all gone silent. Deathly silent.

Surely the surviving defenders would have gotten us out already, right? People began mumbling to each other. They were worried, concerned and frightened. Was it safe to go out? Should we stay here?

Then the vault door began creaking open, and we were all silenced once again. People began raising their weapons, be it guns, axes, clubs, blades were all levelled at whoever was coming in.

What happened after that was what everyone knew that was coming, but were all dreading with all their being.

* * *

 _Codex entry details omitted._

* * *

 **End Chapter**


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

This was the deciding moment. The vault door creaked open, almost painfully slowly, and the anticipation was killing us. Not literally, but you get the point.

The door had only opened a few centimetres before an indecipherable voice was heard on the other side, and only mere moments after that, the door blew up. I'm not exaggerating, the door literally blew up. Perhaps it was because of the explosives that were fired at the door that blew it up, or it was a coincident, we may never know, but the result is the same. The door blew up, and we were now at the mercy of whoever was at the other side.

-0-0-0-

As expected, a Dominion firing squad immediately filed into the bunker, gauss rifles levelled at the defenceless colonists before them.

Another Ghost was standing behind the line of Dominion marines in front of her – it was a female operative this time.

She had a suit that matched the style of the previous Ghost, and had the same sidearm and canister rifle. She let her long dark hair cascade down her back.

"Let none escape, you two, block the exit. Everyone else is on standby. I'll figure out which ones are psionically gifted and we'll take those back. Kill the rest," she ordered.

Many had their mouths agape with horror at this, and the one with the DIY rifle opened fire at the marines, screaming his curses like a maniac.

Most of the bullets missed their mark by a mile. Of the ones that hit, even fewer managed to injure any soldiers.

One bullet, did however, find its mark within the golden visor that covered a marine's face, killing him. I'm surprised that no faction in the Koprulu sector had addressed the problem yet either. The confederacy, nor the Dominion, nor the Kelmorian Combine or the Umojans had even bothered to fix the error in engineering. At least it works in my favour now.

No further confirmation was needed. The remaining marines opened fire at the man in a precise barrage, pumping his body full of bullets. He died before the corpse even hit the ground.

"Anyone else who tries that will have their head blown off! You understand me!?" The Ghost operative bellowed at us.

We nodded our understanding as she began marching over to us.

Standing before us, she truly was a menacing sight to behold, whose effect was magnified by the fact that many of us had to look up to meet her gaze.

Her eyes would dart between us, like a predator admiring its prey. She was mentally probing us, I knew, and I worked quickly to put up my mental barriers.

"Imagine a shield covering your mind. Do not let a single probing thought past it, or you risk your secrets being discovered," was what Jerome had taught us, and I desperately strived for that.

The flaw with this technique however, was that a person with higher psionic power would almost always be able to break the barrier of a weaker person.

As soon as I had brought them up, my barriers were shattered instantly, and the Ghost's eyes swivelled around to glare at me.

"Drop the gun, now!" she snapped at me, and out of fear and surprise, I let it clang to the floor.

"Anything more you would like to reveal to me?" she growled at me, shoving me away, picking up the firearm at the same time.

"N... No… Ma'am," was all I managed to stutter.

After that, she began closely inspecting every person, telling them to either stand by the door, or to remain where they are. I was told to stand by the door. The person who had the gauss rifle, knowing his comrade's fate, let it be confiscated from him without a fight.

It wasn't long before the rest of us managed to realise what was about to transpire. As soon the Ghost commander got back to the door. Before we even had a chance to cry out, the marines opened fire at the group of people at the far side of the room.

All the non-psionic users were slaughtered without a second thought. I would never forget that day. Seeing those screaming people scarred me more than the events that had transpired when we were escaping from the Prometheus outpost.

These colonists had done nothing that opposed the warring government, yet they were killed anyways.

"If we're done here, I would like to get a move on, and off this god forsaken backwater planet," the Ghost told the trigger-happy marines. "Within the next day would be appreciated soldiers!" she elaborated, a little louder too and the marines stopped shooting.

"Good, now let's move it people, we've got a schedule to stick to!" she ordered, and we had no choice but to follow her.

-0-0-0-

The soil above the bunker had been blown away by some sort of explosion from the looks of it, as was the same for the rest of the town.

Everything was on fire, torn apart and had been blown up many times over. None of us had expected it to be this bad.

To make matters worse, the Dominion troops, having received little injuries had already begun setting up their own fortifications among the rubble of our homes. The sight disgusted me, but there was nothing I could do to fix any of this.

The town hall had been completely obliterated, with a sleek black starship, having landed in its place. I didn't recognise the design of it at all, and assumed that it was more experimental weaponry.

While we were being led into the experimental ship, I managed to overhear the Ghost giving orders to what I think was an officer, perhaps a captain or a lieutenant.

"Finish fortifying what's left of the town, then move on to the next. I want the planet-side expedition to be completed within the week!" was what she said.

I also managed to catch a glimpse of a beaten and bruised group of people being transported into a medivac. Judging by the torn, casual clothing, I could assume that they were what remained of our defenders. I've heard of prisoners of war being captured and then forced to fight for their captors, but I desperately hoped that it wasn't true. This shattered those hopes.

The doors of the starship then finished closing, trapping us inside. We were quickly led past all kinds of high tech looking equipment, weaponry and consoles flashing all the colours of the rainbow.

It was a small mercy that the prison cells managed to follow this theme, seeming clean and orderly, maybe even shiny in some places.

The cells, upon closer inspection didn't look like cells at all. They seemed like storage areas instead, with how compact they were.

If I had to guess, they were about the size of your ordinary bedroom, perhaps about three by four metres each.

In the room that we were standing in right now, five cells branched out from each side, totalling ten to hold us, though there was likely another room like this one to hold more prisoners.

Each cell could humanely contain two or three people at most, but if they could just as easily stuff more prisoners into them if they needed to.

Once this another prisoner that I recognised from Jerome's school of psionics and I entered one of the cells, the metal door to it slid closed behind us, locking us inside.

"Fucking hell, not again!" the man beside me complained audibly, even going as far as kicking at the cell door, to no avail.

We were all pissed at this point. The Dominion was ruining our lives again and again. Some of us hadn't even done anything wrong. Being a world in control of the Umojan Protectorate, Icarus IV was bound to have Umojan citizens apart from us refugees.

And now the Dominion is taking their lives too. Some of them might even be conscripted into the Ghost program.

It would give the Dominion a chance to train additional covert operatives, but in doing so, they are spreading themselves thin. This could give the Moebius Foundation and any mercenaries they've hired a chance to weaken the Dominion.

Not only that, but now the Umojan Protectorate also has reason to assault the Dominion, if they choose.

On the other hand, the Prometheus Company likely wouldn't be able to provide assistance against the Dominion after this encounter, seeing as they were founded by and were provided with equipment, men and funds by the Dominion itself. They'll probably be wiped out by this single incursion all together, with how quickly the Dominion was gaining ground on the planet, with little to stop them.

-0-0-0-

"Hey kid, I haven't seen you complain at all yet, don't tell me you're actually enjoying this!?" the man turned to me, desperate to release some steam after getting denied by the cell door for so long, even though it's only been approximately an hour or so, maybe half.

"There are armed guards everywhere on this ship. We're locked up tight. Even if we escape from here where will we go? The Dominion is swarming all over the planet almost as fast as the Zerg, and I'm pretty sure we can't do anything about that. Complaining wouldn't accomplish anything. If you want something to do, try practicing your psionics in silence. Some of us are trying to rest," I told him, completely calm.

He wasn't the only one who was continuously knocking on the doors and walls, but they all eventually realised how futile it was and stopped.

To my relief, my partner seemed to get my point, and began to relax slightly.

"You're right, it won't do anything. I guess I should just keep practicing," he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. Sitting down, he closed his eyes, presumably meditating.

As for me, I curled into a ball at the corner of the room and decided to rest for a while, and to get my thoughts straight.

I may have fallen asleep at this point, but I think I deserved it after what I've been through, and a little rest never hurt anyone anyways.

-0-0-0-

I was shaken awake by my cell mate. I couldn't tell if it was day or night. The lighting in here was the same dimness all the time from what I could tell.

Looking at who had woken me, I saw that he had a plastic wrapper in his hand, and a bottle as well.

"It's meal time, and the guards threw in whatever they consider as a meal. I've already had mine, so this is for you I guess," he told me.

In the wrapper was what seemed to be a bar of some sort, but it definitely didn't look appetising.

"Eew, army rations. Do I really have to eat this?" I asked, thinking that there had to be something better than this. At least I didn't have any qualms about drinking water, but it wasn't like it was in abundance stuffed into that tiny canteen.

"Just eat the bar. Be thankful that it doesn't taste like anything, instead of tasting bad. The water will help wash it down," he encouraged me.

"Alright, thanks I guess, Mr…" I left it hanging, only just realising that I didn't know his name.

"Rakshew. Jones Rakshew is my name, so call me that."

"Okay, I'm Jackson, so you better stop calling me kid now," I replied and Jones laughed a bit.

Our conversation went back and forth for a while, both of us distracting ourselves from the horrible fate that we've been condemned to.

We began to trade information eventually as well. Things like our psionic power, what we were good at like telepathy or telekinesis and the like.

Luckily for me, Jones was more so skilled at telepathy than me, and I was too scared about frying the other prisoner's brain, so I let him attempt to contact them.

I was only skilled enough to read other people's minds, not transmit messages, so I could usually make do with them reading my mind instead.

If I needed to transmit anything, the receiving person had to have their mental barriers up, otherwise they receive immense pain, and a headache afterwards.

I didn't want to catch anyone off guard, but I suppose it could work on some of the marines.

-0-0-0-

Before long, we had established a reliable network of sending each other information with most of the cells having at least one person confident about their ability in telepathy that they wouldn't accidently transmit their thoughts to the marines outside.

Even without hearing a response from about two cells, we were still able to feed them with information, and it wasn't like they knew some top-secret information that we didn't. We were all in the same boat here.

We had assigned everyone into two groups. Those that could deal damage, and those that could communicate efficiently. Myself being the awesome guy that I am, was assigned the role of dealing with guards and causing havoc, whereas Jones was assigned the role of communicator.

There was nobody that was assigned as a leader. We all had to work as a team, and that meant we had to solve problems as a team. A single person would make just as many mistakes as any other, so it was pointless to waste time on that.

-0-0-0-

It didn't take long for us to memorize the routine of guard shifts, the time they brought meals for us and the occasional times when the Ghost operative came to check that we hadn't died.

The basic idea was to break out using the damage dealers when the amount of guards outside the cells was at its fewest.

That meant that meal time was out of the question, and what we assumed was night time to plan our escape. We also knew that the Ghost didn't visit us often, and many of us could over hear the guards talking about how she was out on missions' planet side.

We would escape at night while the Ghost not on the ship. We would deal with the immediate threat of the guards, and those that cannot fight effectively would take their weapons.

Thanks to our telepaths, we would be able to set ambushes for reinforcements, and fight our way from there.

From the size of the corridors we had seen on our way here, they couldn't operate heavy machinery, such as siege tanks or goliaths, which worked in our favour as well.

If we can reach the bridge, we would have a chance to override the security systems, lock the doors and get access to the security systems. We could open the airlocks if there were too many Dominion soldiers for us to handle.

On the other hand, if we reach the armoury, we would be able to arm ourselves and have more of a fighting chance against the personnel on board.

It wasn't a flawless plan, but it was the best one we've got.

 **End Chapter**

 **A/N: Longer chapter this time, so yay to that. I'm also going to be updating the prologue to be more relevant, as well as having it act as a status bar for the story as well. Kudos to the person who can figure out what the deal is with that ship and all that high tech equipment. Next chapter is going to be a micro mission if it were to be recreated, so stay tuned for that. Reviews and criticism are always appreciated.**


End file.
